


Unrequited

by bookwyrmling



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Aftermath, Epikegster, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Swoops POV, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 08:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11917338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookwyrmling/pseuds/bookwyrmling
Summary: There's something to be said about being in love with someone who was still hung up on their first love: It sucks.Or, Swoops witnesses the aftermath of Epikegster 2014, but isn't allowed to help clean it up.





	Unrequited

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted for a prompt meme on parsitive (dreamwidth). Anonymous prompt: Somebody who's in love with Kent who's in love with a boy who barely thinks about him anymore.
> 
> Check Please belongs to Ngozi Ukazu.

There's something to be said about being in love with someone who was still hung up on their first love: It sucks. That's it. That's all there is to be said about it. It sucks. It sucks; it sucks; it sucks. It sucks ass.  
  
Jeff sat in the hotel hallway, banging the back of his head against the door jamb, feet stretching out half-way to the door across from his: Kent's door. The door to Kent's room. The room in which sits Kent's shit. The room in which Kent is supposed to be. Supposed to be because he is not.  
  
Jeff looked back down at his phone and checked the Twitter tag to find even more selfies of college kids with Kent Parson at some college party. Epikegster 2014. Whatever the hell that was.  
  
Well, maybe this wasn't so bad. Maybe Kent got over what was making him act weird whenever the team hit Boston and Rhode Island. Partying was better than sulking, though the coaches might not agree if they found out the captain had skipped out on curfew. But Jeff couldn't help but worry all the same. Because he was a fucking idiot and head-over-heels for someone who obsessed over unanswered emails, who Jeff had found drunk and sobbing on the curb outside a club clinging to his cell phone because, "It's disconnected. Why's it disconnected. I just wanna talk." So Jeff had taken him home and got him to bed with Gatorade and painkillers at his bedside and that was the pattern they had fallen into. Because Jeff was a fucking idiot.  
  
The elevator dinged around the corner and Jeff blinked when he looked up to see Parser turning the corner.  
  
"Parser! Bro, where you been?" he asked with a grin, about to chirp his friend for his small bout of Twitter fame tonight until he saw the slouch of his shoulders and the deep bags under his eyes, just barely peeking out from underneath the brim of his cap.  
  
"Parser..." Jeff tried again, more concerned, "You okay, man?"  
  
Parser finally seemed to recognize someone was indeed talking to him. His head jerked up and Jeff felt his stomach drop from the eighth floor to the lobby. Even after losing in Game 7 OT of the Stanley Cup Finals two years ago with a bruised rib and a concussion he really should not have been playing with, Parser hadn't looked this exhausted, this empty. He met eyes with Jeff for less than a second before his attention fell back to the carpet pattern. Jeff almost thought he was going to ignore him, but Parser stopped right at Jeff's feet. "I fucked it all up..." he admitted, shoulders tense and tears in his voice.  
  
Jeff would ignore them, though, because that was the pattern and that was the deal. Jeff took care of Kent physically when he couldn't, but that was all he was allowed. So Jeff bit his lip and drew his feet in. Kent walked up to and opened his door.  
  
Jeff coughed. "Well, um," he began nervously, eyeing Kent to make sure he was listening. Kent didn't look his way, but he did stop, listing against the jamb as if he could no longer stand on his own. "I kinda locked myself out of my room and not quite feeling the walk to the lobby for a new key in my boxers, y'know?" he continued nervously, clearing his throat once more. "Can I crash with you tonight?" he finally asked, "The other guys told me I snore too loud."  
  
Kent sighed, loud and slow and, for a moment, Jeff thought he would say yes, clenched his fists and crossed his fingers and hoped that tonight, just tonight, Kent would let someone else be there with him even if he wouldn't let anyone be there for him.  
  
"Not tonight, Troy."  
  
Jeff's fingers uncrossed and fists uncurled. When Kent shut the door behind him, his face fell, too. Yeah. There was something to be said about being in love with someone who was still in love with their first love: It sucked and only a fucking idiot would stand for it.  
  
Because Jeff's a fucking idiot, he buries his face in the shirt Kent throws out the door for him before shutting it once more and, even with the heartache of rejection and the knowledge of Kent's own obvious heartache, he catches scent of Kent in the fabric and smiles.


End file.
